Another Year
by Tavalya Ra
Summary: Set in the same timeline as Contemplation and Anniversary. Hogwarts's new headmaster gives the Start of Term speech.


Another Year  
by Tavalya Ra  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Rowling is a goddess; may she have mercy on my soul for writing this.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This story is set several years after "Anniversary," written because I love the mental image of Snape which it presents. If you have enjoyed this small trilogy of stories, you might also like my Snape/Sirius fan novel, "Love Potion HP." (A shameless plug; feel free to throw a tomato or goblet of pumpkin juice at me.)  
  
I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed "Anniversary" so far. To Serpent Tongue- yes, it's a bit hard to keep up the rivalry when the Heads of Houses are married and shagging regularly. To Sairavanie- I would have, too! Thank you also GMTH, A Snape Fan, random reader, and BB.  
  
If anyone wishes to archive this story on his or her site, please contact me at clearbluedelphia@yahoo.com. Comments and criticisms are welcome. Flames will be ignored.  
  
Fanfiction.net does not seem to appreciate italics. Thus asterisks are used to indicate words that should be italicized.  
  
* * *  
  
Professor Calyx, herbologist, Head of Hufflepuff, and deputy headmistress, rolled up her scroll and tucked the Sorting Hat under her arm. She returned to the head table and presented it to the headmaster. He gave her a dour look, then took it, by touch teleporting it back to his office.  
  
The headmaster rose. Four tables full of eager, hungry students turned towards him and shared in an involuntary shudder. The headmaster was garbed entirely in black, from the tip of his wizard hat to the hem of his stiff, high-necked robes. He looked, to many, as forbidding a figure as they imagined the phantom Voldemort whenever their grandparents recounted the tale of Harry Potter. One hardly would have been surprised had lightning crackled from the window behind as he stood.  
  
The headmaster folded his arms.  
  
"Well, another year," he spoke in almost a whisper, his voice like silk. "Another gaggle of first-years entering, another bunch of seventh-years to churn out to wreak havoc on the world."  
  
The headmaster smirked. He spoke again, his voice becoming harsh and grating. "Welcome to Hogwarts. You are here because you are, supposedly, the best. Better than Beauxbatons, better than Durmstrang... though damned if I know it given the usual, sugar-addled state in which the third-years return from Hogsmeade. This is a valuable opportunity, so please, apply yourself to your education for at least a week before you decide to squander your parents' hard-earned Galleons on idle chit-chat about Quidditch and random rule-breaking.  
  
"My next announcement is directed primarily towards the first-years, but I am certain you all could do with a refresher. The Forbidden Forest is named such for a reason and traipsing anywhere in or near it is strictly prohibited. Magic is never permitted in the halls between classes. If you feel the need to curse your schoolmates, I recommend you learn the fine art of insult; it will get you farther. The most serious infringements will be directed to myself and believe me. You. Do. Not. Want. *That*."  
  
The headmaster's rather impressive nostrils expanded and dilated as he inhaled a single, angry breath. "Quidditch trails will be held in two weeks' time. Should you be so fortunate as to make your House team you will *not* be exempt from homework, rules, exams, or anything of the like."  
  
The headmaster bowed his head a moment and paused before continuing resentfully, "My next words are not my own. They are a tradition as old as these walls and as insufferable as my detentions should you be the lucky recipient of one. Giggle at your own peril."  
  
He sighed and said, "Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak."  
  
With a huff, he flounced into his chair and brooded. Every eye in the hall weighted expectantly upon him, but he seemed not to notice. Finally, the Transfiguration teacher nudged him, muttering anxiously, "Severus."  
  
"*What*?" the headmaster snapped.  
  
The professor nodded his head towards the students. "The food."  
  
The headmaster scowled. He raised one hand above his head and snapped his fingers. An array of delicacies apparated upon each gold platter. The students looked at each other, shrugged, then dug in.  
  
* * *  
  
"You are horrible," Sirius remarked, chuckling into his goblet.  
  
"I have a reputation to maintain," Severus retorted indignantly. "And you *don't* help."  
  
"What? How do I not help?"  
  
"Everyone in this castle knows we share a bed," he explained. "The students are convinced I have a warm and cuddly side just through close association with you."  
  
Sirius smirked at him. "Well, such is the peril of having the same last name, Headmaster *Black*-Snape."  
  
Severus scowled as his spouse continued, "Say, why don't we shock all the children right now and have a snog?"  
  
"The problem with you," Severus stated, "is that I honestly don't know if you're serious or not."  
  
"Want to find out?"  
  
From the other side of the headmaster, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Remus Lupin groaned. "God, Sirius, you're eighty. Grow up."  
  
"Snog me at the head table, and you're spending the night with Fluffy III," Severus warned.  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"Wouldn't I?" he asked, raising a brow. "I'm headmaster; I can fire you if I don't like the way you shout my name."  
  
Remus's mouth suddenly sprayed his drink across the table.   
  
"*What* is wrong with *you*?" Severus demanded.  
  
He stared at the headmaster wide-eyed, then blinked. "Remind me *not* to sit next to you two anymore at dinner. There are some things I really *don't* need to hear."  
  
Severus faced forward again. He folded his hands under his chin and sighed. "Another year."  
  
"Another year," Sirius agreed.  
  
"They're all terrified to death of me."  
  
"But they love you for it."  
  
Severus snorted.  
  
"I'm serious!" Sirius insisted. "I know that at least the Gryffindors get a big kick out of the fact that Hogwarts is run by a wizard who might just be the evil, ex-vizier of You-Know-Who."  
  
"Ex-vizier?" he repeated dubiously.  
  
"That's the rumor."  
  
"Well, then," decided Severus, fingering the rim of his goblet, "let's not disillusion them with the knowledge that I was just a flunkey." 


End file.
